What a Man's Gotta Do
by mugglemama
Summary: No one said rebuilding the wizarding world would be easy; Hermione tries to understand when Ron has a rough day at work.


_Author's Note: This was written for the inaugural rhr_smutfest on LiveJournal, my recipient offered the prompt: 'A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.' Thanks to my wonderful betas and to Emz for the Brit picking and creative swearing consultation. _

_I hope you enjoy this little piece of smut, Ron and Hermione seemed to have a good time with it! Be sure to let me know what you think!_

* * *

Hermione jumped when she heard a loud crack of Apparition quickly followed by a muffled shout.

"Fuck!"

_Ron's home_, she observed. Glancing at the clock, she sighed at the late hour. _Finally_.

The walls of the flat echoed with the sounds of Ron's disgruntled mumbling as he stomped down the hall toward their bedroom. He pushed the door open with force enough to cause it to bounce back on its hinges and slam shut behind him. Hermione kept her nose buried in her copy of House-Elves: Breeding or Brainwashing as Ron ripped off his Auror training robes and tossed them into a pile in the corner. "Fucking Ministry tossers, bunch of bloody fucking shit-lickers..."

Continuing his diatribe, he sat down hard on the bed, jostling Hermione. "Think _I'm_ gonna be another arse-licker... Ha!" The loud _thud_ of his boots hitting the wall punctuated his grumbling.

Ron tossed his wand on the bed and stomped over to the chest of drawers to pull out a T-shirt and pyjama bottoms. Hermione attempted to concentrate on her reading and ignore Ron's rant. She couldn't help but peek over the top of her book and watch as he undressed. As usual, the sight of his body captivated her. The stretching and shifting of muscles across his lean back as he removed his shirt never ceased to arouse her. She almost moaned out loud when he dropped his trousers and pants to reveal his firm bottom, the cheeks round and covered in light golden hairs.

Hermione's view was cut short when Ron yanked on his bottoms and pulled on his T-shirt. As his head poked through the opening, she could hear his deep voice complain, "Tit-nibbling muckminge, that's what he is..." Hermione released an involuntary giggle and just barely managed to avoid detection by quickly returning her attention to her book.

Ron made his way over to the side of their large bed and flopped across it, his head resting near Hermione's feet. He covered his eyes with one freckled arm, which did nothing to block his complaints. "Bloody buggering fucking piece of shit pathetic excuse for a twatting job."

Hermione stretched out a bare foot and poked him in the side. "Hello to you too, dear."

Ron lifted his arm off his face and offered her an apologetic smile. "Sorry." He reached for her leg and wrapped his large hand easily around her ankle, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Tough day, I take it," Hermione observed wryly, her eyes never leaving the pages of her book.

"Ever the Queen of Understatement, you are," Ron chuckled. He slowly moved his hand up and down her smooth leg while he spoke.

"Robards again?" she asked, familiar with Ron's constant clashes with the long-time Auror.

"Yeah," he sighed. Hermione squirmed a little as Ron's long fingers teased the back of her knee. He continued higher until he reached her thigh, and then slowly slid his hand back down to her ankle before starting his path over.

"Kingsley says he wants me and Harry to 'revolutionise the Auror Department'." Ron imitated the Minister of Magic's deep voice perfectly. "Don't know how the fuck he expects us to do that when he left that bumbling fuckwit of an old codger in charge."

"Gawain Robards has had a very distinguished career, Ron," Hermione admonished, closing her book and balancing it on her lap. "He deserves your respect."

"I respect h–" Ron started before Hermione interrupted.

"You don't have to like him personally, and of course you are free to disagree with him, but there are certain channels for that sort of thing. You must show respect to your superiors, Ron. If not–"

Ron abruptly stopped his exploration of Hermione's leg, withdrew his hand and threw his arm back over his face. "Jesus, Hermione, I said I respect him, drop it already."

"Ron?" Hermione nudged his freckled forearm with her foot in an effort to get him to come out of hiding.

"Just go back to your book."

"No, tell me what's wrong." Hermione placed her book on the bedside cabinet and moved to kneel beside him, her knees touching his side.

"I don't understand ... I mean, you always..." Hermione waited patiently for Ron to confess what was bothering him, a skill she had only recently mastered. "Why can't you ever just say, you know, 'That really sucks' or something? You always have to lecture me and make me feel like ... like I'm _wrong_ for feeling a certain way."

Hermione sat up sharply, stung by his words. "I don't do that," she automatically rebutted, clearly offended. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. "Do I?" she asked quietly.

"It's like every month when you go on and on about how fat you are," Ron said, peeking out from under this arm to look at her, "which is a load of dung, by the way." She met his eyes with a small smile of thanks. "But I've learned to let you complain and not argue with you, and then when your monthly's over I make sure I show you how gorgeous I think you are. I guess, sometimes, I just need you to ... to let me think I'm fat, is all."

"As if that would ever happen," she joked, running a hand over his lean stomach.

"You know what I mean." He rolled his eyes before closing them with a sigh.

"I do. I do know what you mean, Ron." Hermione continued to rub his stomach, snaking her hand under his T-shirt to run it across his abdomen and up his chest. "I never meant to belittle your feelings, Ron, you have to know that."

"Y-yeah... I do." Ron's voice hitched when Hermione pushed his shirt higher and ran her nails over his nipple.

"I guess sometimes I just get stuck in argument mode." Hermione moved her hand down his torso to the front of his pyjamas. "I'm really sorry," she whispered, pressing the palm of her hand over his half hard cock. She leaned forward to plant kisses along the trail of ginger hair that disappeared into his bottoms.

"Fuuuuck," Ron groaned as she slid her hand into his pyjamas and started slowly stroking him.

"I think we should get to the part where I show you how gorgeous I think you are," she murmured, her kisses moving lower while she pushed his bottoms down to expose his erection.

"Pfft," Ron snorted, uncomfortable with her compliment.

"You are, you know... gorgeous, I mean." Hermione whispered praises into his skin as she kissed her way up his torso. "You're handsome ... you're brave ... you're funny ... you're brilliant." By the time she reached his neck, Ron's ears were burning bright red in embarrassment. She looked him in the eye. "And Robards is a fool for not listening to you." Ron laughed before Hermione captured his lips in a passionate kiss. She pulled her mouth back just far enough to whisper "I love you" before sucking his full bottom lip between her own. She nibbled his lip gently before allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. She sucked his tongue in time with the strokes she was making along his cock.

"Mmmm ... shit, Hermione," Ron moaned when she shifted to flick her tongue over his distended pink nipples while rolling his heavy bollocks in the palm of her hand.

Ron stretched his body out along the width of the bed and arched his hips up, encouraging Hermione as her mouth descended past his navel. She turned her head sideways to look at his face, resting her cheek against his warm thigh. "Something you want, Ron?"

"Wench," he said through clenched teeth. He tried to swipe at her curvy bottom, but even his long arm could not reach as she knelt over him facing the foot of their bed. He settled for pinching her nipple roughly through his old Cannons T-shirt she wore to bed.

Hermione giggled while she ran her tongue slowly over his cock, working the foreskin up and over the tip with her hand before she fully exposed the head and took him into her mouth. She moved up and down at a leisurely pace, using her right hand to stroke his large cock in tandem with her mouth, and holding herself up on her left hand as it rested between his legs, up against his bollocks.

"Er-my-nee," Ron growled in frustration as he tried unsuccessfully to touch her. Her body was at such an angle that he couldn't reach between her legs and the large shirt she wore prevented him from accessing her bare breasts. "As hot as you look in my clothes, you gotta get this off," he said, tugging on the faded orange tee.

Hermione ignored his plea and merely increased her pace, causing him to grip the duvet reflexively; his hand landed upon his wand, which he had thrown on the bed earlier. A flick of his wrist and a non-verbal spell and they were both suddenly completely starkers.

"Ron!" Hermione yelped, pulling back in shock.

"Sorry. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." He leaned up on his elbow and tugged on her leg, "C'mere."

"But-but ... you can't just–"

"I can and I did; now stop your complaining and come sit on my face."

"What?" she cried.

"Come here," Ron commanded, his voice quiet but insistent. Hermione realised what he had in mind and turned her body so her feet were now near his head. He manoeuvred her legs so they rested on either side of his chest with his arms looped around her legs. "Damn, I love your arse," he said gruffly before he leaned forward and sucked greedily on her fleshy cheek, leaving a large love bite. His strong hands gripped her tightly and brought her fanny down to his face.

"Oh God, Ron," Hermione moaned, "so good." Hermione would never admit it to anyone, but she absolutely loved to have Ron go down on her. To have all of his passion, his aggression, his ... _hunger_ directed toward her pleasure was always a very powerful experience, never more so than when he used his mouth on her.

Hermione took Ron back between her panting lips and tried her best to concentrate on pleasuring him, no easy task given the fervour with which he was attacking her core. Everything became a blur of lips, teeth, and tongues as they raced in a frenzy to give and receive pleasure. Hermione's breasts tingled where they rubbed against Ron's taut stomach, his hand occasionally reaching down between their torsos to squeeze and tease her nipples.

As soon as Ron pressed one of his long fingers inside her, Hermione released his cock from her mouth and only managed uneven strokes with a shaky hand as he worked her to completion. Ron never let up his assault as she arched her back and screamed his name; if anything, her climax excited him more and he increased his pace. Soon it became too overwhelming and, rather than move off of him completely or take him back into her mouth, Hermione crawled down his body until she hovered over his leaking cock on her hands and knees, the soft hairs of his legs tickling her oversensitive nipples.

"Hermione?" Ron croaked, his voice now thick with lust and need.

She didn't answer him; instead, she reached behind her and grabbed his cock, pushing herself slowly backward until he was buried deep inside her. Hermione knew she was still too sensitive for the pounding he wanted to give her, so she settled for moving her hips in small circles, letting him hit _just-the-right-spot_ that he always found when he took her from behind. Soon Ron was rotating his pelvis in time with hers, his hands digging into her arse. Hermione couldn't see his face, but she knew it wore a grimace as he struggled to maintain control; the slow and sensual pace she'd set was testing the limits of his self-restraint.

Unable to hold back any longer, Ron squeezed her cheeks roughly and groaned, "Shit Hermione ... gotta move ... please."

"Mmmm, yeah," she agreed. Hermione sat up tall and began to ride Ron's cock, his hands on her waist helping to guide her movements as he met her thrust for thrust.

"Fuuuuck, you feel so good ... so fucking hot," Ron moaned, pounding up into her, the sound of his body slapping against her almost drowning out her whimpers of approval. "Gimme those tits," he growled, reaching up with one hand and squeezing her breast hard. Hermione thrust her hand between his spread legs and tugged on his balls, eliciting a primal growl from Ron. He released her breast and moved his hand down to her clit, which he rubbed in time with his cock moving inside her.

"Ron, oh God, I'm gonna..."

"Fucking hell ... that's right. Come on my cock, Hermione, squeeze it tight." The combination of Ron's crude words and his relentless pounding caused Hermione to shudder and scream in her second orgasm of the night. Rather than letting Hermione recover, Ron wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her down to lay against his chest.

"Ron, I–" Her words were cut off as Ron used a hand to turn her face to his so he could kiss her fiercely. He continued to move inside her, his strong fingers still circling her clit.

"I-I can't," she claimed breathlessly once his lips moved on to her neck.

"Sure you can," he insisted. Ron moved his legs together and bent them slightly to offer her support. He slowed his movements, gyrating their hips together rather than his earlier forceful thrusting.

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered in her ear, nuzzling her neck gently.

"Love you," she barely managed to reply, as he brought her over the edge one more time.

Once he was sure she could handle it, Ron thrust hard and slow a few times before he rasped out her name as he came.

They lay together panting for a few moments before Hermione whimpered in pain. "I don't think I can move my legs."

"Wh-whuh?" Ron lifted his head to look down at their bodies and noticed Hermione's legs were still tucked underneath her as she leaned back against him. "Oh shit, sorry." He carefully helped her move her legs and roll to the side, where he curled up behind her.

"My body feels like jelly," Hermione mumbled.

"Mmmm, I like jelly," Ron said, kissing her bare shoulder.

"We're laying the wrong way on the bed," she observed. "Sideways."

"Yeah."

"We should move," Hermione suggested.

"Yeah," he agreed again, burrowing deeper into the mattress.

Just as Ron was dozing off, Hermione spoke again. "Ron?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"You can feel fat more than once a month if you like."


End file.
